Skiles Drama at its Greatest

So this evening I was innocently checking Facebook in my room in the basement. Rebekah was in the bathroom down here dying her t-shirt, Susannah was upstairs on the computer, and Abigail was out in the garden. The rest of the family was out harvesting. Well, I heard this crash and then these frantic tweets and the fluttering of wings.

*Let me take you back for a moment to last summer, when Rebekah and I came home from school to an empty house. I was going down to the basement room when I heard this shrieking sound coming from this little black mass of something on the floor. Rebekah and I, amidst lots of random screams and nervous steps down the basement stairs, discovered that it was a nest full of Chimney Swifts that had fallen down out of our chimney onto the floor. Our basement isn't quite finished yet, see. That was quite the experience.*

So this time, I knew it was the birds again. But...they were big this time, and they were flying.

*Let me take you back again to when I was little. My uncle had a parakeet named Buddy (that was supposed to be a boy but kept laying eggs...so apparently not) and sometimes it would fly around the house. I remember screaming and hiding under my aunt's bed because I was so scared. I like little birds chirping outside and I like shooting pheasants and dove and quail and eating them, but I do NOT like birds flying around in small places where they might hit me in the head.*

Okay, back to the story. So I took a few tentative steps toward the commotion and at the same moment I saw a bird flying into the porch door upstairs and one flying right toward me! I screamed pretty much at the top of my lungs and bolted for my bedroom slamming the door behind me. I could hear the bird flying into things outside. I yelled at the top of my lungs for help over and over again and finally my sisters came around. Rebekah, totally oblivious, came out of the bathroom to the washing machine, when suddenly the bird flew right toward her. SHE shrieked and dropped to the floor in a heap, then pulled the laundry basket over her head. By now the poor bird was behind the washing machine, apparently quite stuck. Abigail and Susannah climbed on top of the washing machines to try to dig it out. You should have heard our dialogue:

Me: Why don't you get a net? Do we have a net?
Abby: I have my fish net, but it's like "this" big.
Me: Oh well. Maybe if we got a hoe. Do you think? (I'm still peeking out from behind my door)
Abby gives up and climbs down, then Rebekah puts the laundry basket down and braves the task.
Rebekah: Here, birdy, birdy. Come on. Ah! (wings fluttering)
Me: Is it out?
Rebekah: No, it just moved. Stop moving!
Susannah: You WANT it to move, Rebekah, you're trying to get it out.

So Abigail leaves, I'm not sure why, because she was the bravest one there. I decide to go look for some sort of tool and bring in a rake. Suddenly the bird flies out of where it is hiding and slams right into the light, and dive bombs into a pile of cardboard boxes. Of course, we're all screaming while it's in flight, ducking and running. And then we were quoting Pete's Dragon:
"And then, he smiled at me."
"Well, did you smile back?"
"I didn't have TIME to smile back! I was too busy RUNNING!"

We all three tentatively start picking away at the boxes, calling for the bird and even whistling for it. I suggested we find some birdseed and lure it out, but you know, that wasn't really considered as a valid option.

Then, we found it, sitting askew on a board. We didn't know what to do, although we considered scooping it into a box, but we were afraid it would fly again. So we called Abigail and she came back downstairs and scooped it up in her hands and took it outside. She set it on the slide and it flew away. End of story. At least it was a happy one. We were afraid it broke itself when it hit the light.

Abigail: It's just a poor little bird scared to death.
Me: IT'S scared to death? What about me? It flew into my head!

So how many Skiles girls does it take to get a bird out of the basement? Abigail, apparently.